


Odd Couple

by Beedok



Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: 12 years post canon, Divorce, Other, Ranma’s sort of got anxiety now... too much pressure, Ryoga definitely has depression issues but that’s just canon, and turn what could have been easy into a slow burn, gender fluid Ranma, inspired by the movie The Odd Couple, significant alcohol consumption, they’re a pair of doofuses who don’t communicate, they’re older
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2020-07-26 00:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20034892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beedok/pseuds/Beedok
Summary: Ranma’s recently divorced from Akane, and, feeling very down, they wander onto Ryoga’s doorstep. Ryoga’s been feeling furiously lonely himself, and is happy for the company. Of course, neither of them knows how to communicate very well, so arguments ensue.(I’m not following the movie that inspired this 100%, and there will be a fair amount of post ‘movie plot’ material.)





	1. The End

Under the twilight of a late summer evening, the bridge to Wakasu island, one of the new reclaimed islands not far from downtown Tokyo, creaked and groaned as its own weight increased with an infusion of negative ki. The source of the negative energies was a lone figure in their late 20s walking slowly across the bridge with a purple aura glowing around them. Every so often a tendril would emerge and leap into the surroundings, causing another groan. The figure paid these noises no mind, being all but oblivious to the world, their only goal being to reach the secluded and, at this time of night, hopefully abandoned empty lots on the artificial island before the energy of this building Shishi Hokodan reached its critical point.

As they reached the island they could tell that the first lot would have to do. It was probably trespassing, but that mattered to them less than minimising the collateral damage. Reaching the middle of the empty mix of grass and bare dirt they sighed and let the negative ki release.

The pillar of purple energy lifted up, and they waited in acceptance for it to hit.

Moments later they were standing in the middle of a massive crater. Sickly purple ki still flitted about, tendrils hoping sporadically along the ground like electric inchworms.

Ranma smiled a sad and broken grin. They could actually think straight now. The response to the paperwork they’d received was simple enough: fall back onto the dirt and cry. Afterall, the thing they’d spent their youth fighting for was over.

* * *

The ringing of the telephone woke Ryoga. It took him a moment to realise he’d fallen asleep as his desk again. At least he hadn’t used his keyboard as a pillow this time, so there were no pages of face typing to delete. Briefly he tried to remember the date. His publisher was going to complain on the 20th, but he was _pretty_ sure it was only the 9th. Or maybe the 10th... no later than the 13th. So it was probably Akari phoning, no doubt he’d put the wrong address on his support cheque again.

Half stumbling out of his chair as his tingly still asleep legs gradually regained blood flow, Ryoga paused a moment to try and identify where the phone was coming from. Seemed like his left. That turned out to be correct, and led him to the kitchen. It only took a moment or two of fumbling in the dark to find the phone (he wasn’t about to waste time hunting for the light switch when he could just use his ears).

“Hello, yes, I’m so-” Ryoga began apologising, when the voice on the other end was certainly not the one he expected.

“Ryoga, have you been watching the news?” Akane’s voice asked.

“Huh? No?”

“Please, go turn it on. There’s something you need to see.”

“Sure, just gimme a minute... or five,” Ryoga replied, before trying to remember the route to the living room.

“Don’t tell me your lost in your own house again?” Akane asked. She sounded tired and annoyed. If Ryoga had been more awake he’d have realised it probably wasn’t aimed at him, but... well, he wasn’t more awake.

“I’m not lost. I... I just woke up,” Ryoga shot back in a defensive tone as he headed back into the hallway (it was the door on the end right? Just a straight hall... something felt wrong though).

“You just woke up? It’s not even 8pm yet!”

“It was supposed to be a short nap, I guess I was more tired than I thought,” Ryoga grumbled, losing track of where he was going and somehow finding himself in the washroom. He gave a quick defeated sigh before turning around and heading the correct way this time. “So, what channel do you want me to turn to?”

“It doesn’t matter. All the news channels are going to be showing it,” Akane replied, growing ever more irritated.

Ryoga shrugged, for his own benefit only, and flipped on the tv. It had been left on a news channel the last time it was on, which made his life easier. The screen was showing a sickly purple glow hanging over the Tokyo waterfront, pictures taken from various angles.

“Ooh, that’s quite the Shishi Hokodan,” Ryoga said to himself, forgetting he was on the phone for a moment and losing his defensiveness.

“Do you think it could be Ranma’s?” Akane asked, her tone growing softer.

“Huh? Ranma’s? I mean, the guy’s got enough ki, but... never known him to have that much of it go negative.”

“Well, with the divorce, I wasn’t sure if he might be able to pull that much.”

“Divorce? What divorce?” Ryoga asked, suddenly feeling rather lost in the conversation.

“H-he hasn’t told you? We’ve been seeing Nabiki and a lawyer for a few months now, hashing out the final specifics,” Akane explained. “I thought that, if he’d vent to anyone, it would be you. No mention of it at all?”

“Nope. He’s not really been around much lately though,” Ryoga admitted.

Looking back, Ranma had been visiting less and less the last few months. Sure, Mousse or Ukyo still swung by once in a while to check up on him, but they generally went out for some lunch and small talk, maybe a bit of sparring if they had a lot of free time. Ranma had been the only one who really hung out and had real conversations. Or helped Ryoga get out and buy fresh groceries (rather than leaving Ryoga to grab whatever he could get from the combini he’d memorised the route to... though lately he’d been unsure he could remember that route).

“Figures. He’s a disaster when it comes to communication,” Akane replied, the tiredness creeping back into her voice. “You don’t think he’d have been hurt by that Hokodan, do you?”

“No. When you’re down it doesn’t hurt you.”

“So he’s probably okay?”

“Physically? Yeah.”

“Oh thank goodness. If he comes by, can you let me know? I’m going to be calling anyone else we know to see if he shows up anywhere.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ryoga replied.

“Thank you, bye.”

As Ryoga stood there listening to the dial tone, he had no idea what to think.

Ranma and Akane getting divorced.

The two had been together for 12 years, and married for 10 of them. It was one of the things that never seemed to change in life.

Slumping onto his couch, Ryoga absently watched how the light from the street lights outside reflected off the rain running down the window. When had it started raining? On the news various ‘experts’ gave their opinions of the odd lights over Tokyo. A rogue art display. A gas leak of some sort. Bioluminescent plankton that had been picked up by water spouts.

Ryoga noticed absently that he was hungry. After wandering a bit he found his way to the kitchen. The options weren’t great. A slowly decreasing supply of instant ramen, canned soup and instant rice. Maybe he should order something in. Add it to the pile of takeout boxes he’d not gotten around to throwing out.

*Ding-dong*

Ryoga blinked. That was a front door. It was pushing 10pm now (when did that happen?). Who would be-

*Ding-dong*

Ranma. It had to be Ranma.

Ryoga took a moment to trace the route in his head before heading towards the front door. A third ring helped him when he nearly missed a turn. Opening the door, he was greeted by a tired redhead in an oversized business suit, a briefcase over one shoulder.

“Hey P-chan. Mind if I come in? It’s pissin’ out here,” Ranma said, white dress shirt firmly sticking to their chest. The outline of a sports bra was visible beneath, though Ryoga tried not to let his eyes linger there too long.

“Yeah, sure, make yourself at home,” Ryoga replied as he stepped aside.

Ranma stepped in and began pulling off sopping outer layers and hanging them on the coat rack. As they began to unbutton their shirt Ryoga cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Do you want me to get you a shirt and pants or anything?”

Ranma looked down at their current state of undress and shrugged. “Sure, whatever. Just didn’t want to get your place wet.”

“Sure, just give me a second,” Ryoga said as he headed towards the stairs.

Making his way towards his bedroom, after a moment orienting himself, Ryoga felt a smile creeping onto his lips for the first time in a very long time. Ranma was here, rather than wandering the city aimlessly. And for a change Ryoga could be there for Ranma emotionally. He quickly grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of track pants before heading back downstairs.

Ranma was standing there in just their underwear, both pieces of which were rather utilitarian in design. But that didn’t change the fact that adulthood had been very kind to the redhead’s figure (and it had been a while since Ryoga had seen them that exposed), leading Ryoga to blush a bit as he shoved the clothes Ranma’s way. Ranma surprisingly made no jabs at Ryoga’s reaction, merely pulling up the pants and tossing on the shirt.

“I heart Saitama? Didn’t even know they made these,” Ranma muttered, before looking back up at Ryoga. “Ya got any beer? Or something stronger, if that’s an option.”

“Should have a few Sapporos in the fridge still,” Ryoga offered, heading off to get them.

Ranma slipped ahead past him and into the kitchen, where the redhead made a disgusted face.

“Yeesh, when’s the last time ya did dishes?” they grumbled, before heading over to the fridge and popping it open.

Bare shelves stared back at them. In a back corner there sat a tub of margarine and a bottle of soy sauce. The door held more, five bottles of beer and a variety of sauces. Ranma grabbed one beer for them, and another for Ryoga.

“Not gotten out for groceries lately either, Porky?” Ranma muttered as they tossed Ryoga his beer.

“It was probably the last time you visited,” Ryoga muttered, following the redhead into the livingroom.

“Really? I asked Ucchan and Mousse ta help ya out,” Ranma said, before flopping into a chair and staring aimlessly at the tv.

“I thought they’d been visiting more,” Ryoga replied, all the while watching Ranma closely, trying to gauge their mental state.

Ranma looked emotionally burnt out right now, but Ryoga knew that that state could switch to tears in a split second if one’s mind wandered the wrong way.

“Anything you want to watch?” Ryoga offered, hoping to keep the conversation going. He wasn’t going to push them into talking about the divorce until they were ready.

“I dunno, what’ver,” Ranma mumbled.

Ryoga wasn’t sure what to try next. He’d never been the best conversationalist afterall. Neither of them really followed sports, and the weather had been pretty average the past while.

“Yer water heater’s good, right?” Ranma asked, staring down at their empty beer bottle and looking like they were about to cry.

“Yeah, yeah. Just turn the tap on, give it a second or two, and you should be good to change,” Ryoga replied.

The redhead nodded and headed back into the kitchen. Ryoga listened, hearing the sound of the water. A male Ranma returned a few seconds later, sitting back down where they’d been before. The raven haired man stared at their beer bottle again, frowned, and then buried their face in their hands, beginning to sob.

“I, uh, do you want to, uh, talk about it? Maybe?” Ryoga offered.

Ranma lifted their face slightly to look at him. “What’s there to talk about? It’s over. I messed up bad, and lost everythin’ I’d had. I knew it was comin’, but now it’s actually happened, and I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’ve always been pretty good with improvising,” Ryoga replied, trying to keep things light. Ranma’d always provided him positivity when he was in a funk after all.

“Gonna have ta get on that. Didn’t even plan out a place ta sleep fer the night.”

“I thought that’s why you were here?” Ryoga asked, honestly surprised.

“I don’t even know why I came here. I guess I just needed ta head to somebody who might understand... but I couldn’t possibly ask ya ta put me up for the night,” Ranma replied, looking out the window. “Can pro’bly find a capsule hotel or somethin’ downtown for the night.”

Before Ryoga could reply, Ranma was on their feet and heading back towards the door. Ryoga rushed after them, managing to get ahead and block the hallway with his arms.

“No way. I’ve got a spare room. You’re staying here tonight. Even if she’s divorced you, Akane would still kill me if I let you go wandering back off into the rainy night.”

“Did she tell ya about it?” Ranma asked.

“Yes. Your little shishi hokodan is all over the news. She was worried about you,” Ryoga replied.

Ranma smiled a little. “Heh, that’s good to hear. Thought she might want ta kill me after I just wandered off after work. Maybe I can still go pick up my stuff tomorrow.”

“Mhm, and you’ll bring it back here,” Ryoga replied.

“I can handle ya puttin’ me up for the night, but I ain’t plannin’ ta start freeloadin’ again,” Ranma countered. “I’ve done enough of that for one life.”

“Well then... you can pay me rent for the room then,” Ryoga said. “Listen, this isn’t pure altruism. I could use the company, and the place is big and labyrinthine enough we could stay out of each other’s hair for a month if we do star arguing.”

Ryoga hoped he didn’t sound too desperate, but he wasn’t ready to let one of the most important people in his life walk out into the rain in the state Ranma was in.

“Yer serious?” Ranma asked, after a moment’s pause that had made Ryoga feel like his heart was in his throat.

“Completely,” Ryoga replied, finally dropping his arms so he no longer blocked the hallway.

To Ryoga’s surprise, Ranma suddenly stepped forward and hugged him. “Thanks, yer a good pal... aaand I just remembered guys don’t hug much. Heh, sorry ‘bout that.”

Ranma backed off nervously. “Ya know me, never quite rememberin’ my gendered social rules.”

“You’re a real specimen, Saotome,” Ryoga replied, placing a hand on Ranma’s shoulder. “You’re... you’re also way too tensed. Your traps seem ready to snap... follow me, right now.”

“Follow you? That sounds a little dangerous,” Ranma weakly protested, before Ryoga grabbed his hand and dragged him to the kitchen.

Ryoga pulled out a chair and then firmly plunked Ranma into it, sitting back to front. He then moved behind Ranma and placed his hands on their shoulders.

“I was visiting Sapporo a while back and picked up a bit of a martial arts masseusing... massaging? I... it’s been a little while, but I remember the basics,” Ryoga explained as he began to rub his thumbs into Ranma’s trapezium muscles.

Ranma let out a grunt that Ryoga couldn’t quite interpret as their pigtail shot up when a shiver ran up their spine.

“Oooh, ow... didn’t realise I was _that_ stiff,” Ranma groaned, pigtail continuing to stand on end.

“Right, we’re undoing that braid too,” Ryoga said, batting at the bit of hair that seemed to defy gravity. “I swear you’re the only person in the world with clenched hair.”

With the hair tie removed, Ranma’s shoulders relaxed perceptibly. Still, he remained significantly more tense than was healthy and Ryoga resumed running his fingers and thumbs along pressure points on Ranma’s back. It was going well enough, with Ranma sighing as Ryoga worked out stress knots... until Ranma let out an odd noise and effectively turned to jello, Ryoga having to hold them up to keep them in the chair.

“Woah! Sorry! Got that a couple pressure points mixed up there,” Ryoga yelped, trying to help Ranma back to his feet. “I hope it didn’t hurt too much.”

“Oooh... I don’t know what you did... but it felt amazing,” Ranma replied, a bit wobbly, but back on their feet as Ryoga helped them up.

“Y-you make the same sounds for pain and pleasure. T-that’s confusing...” Ryoga stammered as he felt his cheeks growing a bit hot.

They wore a gentle and genuine smile quite different from the expressions Ryoga had seen on his friend lately before holding up an arm and displaying an impressive level of fluidity. “Look at that! I’m all wiggly. Haven’t felt this loose in... I don’t know how long. Should have come to you for massages years ago.”

The gentle smile on Ranma’s face only worsened how flustered Ryoga felt. “A-anyway! Let’s go get your futon set up!”

Ranma nodded and followed Ryoga upstairs. The pair pulled the large and floppy mat of fabric out of a closet and maneuvered it into the spare room. ‘Spare’, however, was a bit of a misnomer, ‘library’ may have been the more correct term, if Ryoga was being fair.

“We can move the bookshelves out tomorrow, so you can put your stuff in,” Ryoga explained.

“Sure, yeah,” Ranma mumbled, heading back towards the closet to grab some sheets.

Feeling confident that Ranma was really going to stay (at least tonight), Ryoga headed downstairs and began hunting around for the phone. Maybe a cordless phone wasn’t the best idea for someone as disorganised as he was...

A minute or two later he’d found it, and quickly dialed the number for the Tendo Dojo. After a little ringing he heard Akane’s voice.

“H’llo? Who’s there?” a groggy Akane asked.

“It’s Ryoga. Ranma’s here, he’ll be staying the night. Going to pick his stuff up from your place some time tomorrow.”

“Oh. That’s good. Will be nice to finally have a clean slate for starting over.”

The sound of footsteps behind him caused Ryoga to turn nervously. Ranma was watching him with an eyebrow raised.

“That Akane? Tell her I’ll be there just after work,” Ranma said.

Ryoga nodded and started to relay the information when Akane interrupted him.

“I could hear him fine. Well, I need to get to bed. Sera and Tenma have school in the morning, and I’m going to have to make breakfast. Night. And thanks for taking him,” Akane said, before hanging up.

Ryoga looked down at the receiver, realising he had no idea what time it was. The little screen informed him it was 12:48am, and he was fairly certain the clock on it was accurate.

“We should probably hit the hay too, eh Ranma?” Ryoga said. “It’s later than I thought.”

The pigtailed young man was in the kitchen and, at first, did not reply. Ryoga wandered over to see what was up.

“C’mon, let’s get to bed,” Ryoga repeated.

“Not quite yet. This kitchen is a disaster. No way I can sleep with it like this. Just give me twenty minutes, so I can tidy it up a little,” Ranma replied, heading over to turn the sink on. “A bit of cleaning should help my nerves too.”

Ryoga shrugged, unsure what else he could do. “Alright, sure. I’m tired though, so I’ll see you in the morning.”

Ranma mumbled something that Ryoga couldn’t hear over the water.

“Good night, Ranma,” Ryoga said, heading towards the stairs.

From the kitchen he heard Ranma gently reply: “Good night, Akane.”

Ryoga chuckled as he headed up the stairs.


	2. And They Were Roommates

The buzzing of his alarm disoriented Ryoga for a moment. It had been months since he’d bothered to set it. Fiddling with half forgotten button options, he finally got the shrill electronic noise to stop.

For a few moments he just blinked and pulled himself back into the waking world. Then the alarm when off again and he realised he’d hit the snooze button, rather than actually turning it off, leaving him scrambling to shut it off again. He didn’t want to wake up Ranma.

When he finally got the thing to stop screeching for good Ryoga was now firmly awake enough for the truth to set in. Ranma was staying at his home. He couldn’t help smiling. The only person he could imagine being happier to have staying with him was his son, but Riku was surely better off living with Akari.

Feeling actual motivation to face the day for the first time in months, Ryoga headed down stairs for breakfast. Reaching the kitchen, he was reminded his options were limited, and quietly flicked on the electric kettle while trying to decide between beef or chicken flavoured instant ramen. Chicken won out, and a few minutes later he was enjoying his simple breakfast. Well, maybe ‘enjoying’ was a bit generous a term, but ‘eating’ covered it at least.

“Mornin’ Ryoga,” Ranma yawned as they walked into the kitchen, wearing naught but a pair of boxers.

Ryoga struggled against his impulse to blush at Ranma’s svelte frame. Especially as the other man leaned down to check that no actual food had managed to sneak into the fridge the night before. (_Why_ he felt like blushing, Ryoga couldn’t say. Embarrassment over how Ranma’s toning compared to his own, perhaps?)

“Huh, noodles it is,” Ranma said, mostly to themself. “Let’s see, any veggie flavoured ones... there we go.”

Ryoga hastily realised he’d been sitting there with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth since Ranma walked in and began to hurriedly shovel noodles into his mouth, trying to play it cool while Ranma was refilling the kettle.

“I noticed you had some interestin’ reading material,” Ranma said, smiling as they hopped up a little to sit on the counter. “Very high brow stuff. Especially the works of Arita Shion, Kasuga Madoka, Satomi Ran, Fubuki Kyoko...”

Ryoga went bright red and struggled not to choke as he glanced over at Ranma’s mischievous smirk.

Coughing a bit, Ryoga managed to stammer a reply. “You really shouldn’t be looking through another guy’s... _private readings_ like that.”

“You’re the one who left me unattended in your library,” Ranma replied with an innocent shrug. “It looked like Satomi’s your favourite.”

Ryoga felt certain he’d reached a new level of blushing. “That’s none of your business.”

Ranma raised an eyebrow, but their kettle began to boil and distracted them. As Ranma mixed the water, sauce packages, and noodles, Ryoga scrambled to finish his noodles. He wasn’t going to stick around to get embarrassed any further.

“Well, it shouldn’t take too long to get my stuff,” Ranma said, in a less mischievous tone. “Not much that was just mine. Besides clothes. Maybe a bit of work out equipment, but the divorce agree—ow. That hurts to say... but, well, the agreement says I’ll still be teaching at the dojo. So I’ll leave a bit of stuff there.”

Ryoga nodded, and gave Ranma a soft smile. “You’ll... you’ll get used to it. It’ll take a while, but it _will_ happen.”

“Thanks,” Ranma replied, smiling, but with the slight shimmer of tears in their eyes.

* * *

The ringing of the doorbell pulled Ryoga out of his writing. Glancing to the clock on his computer he was surprised to see it was pushing 6pm already. Sometimes the day just flew by when he found ‘the zone’ for writing. (Or just zoned out, but today had been a productive one, for the first time in a while.)

The doorbell ringing a second time reminded him he actually had to answer it, and Ryoga hurried off down the hallway. A moment later he’d open to the door to see Ranma and Ukyo, the former carrying a couple suitcases and the latter carrying a lounge chair of some sort.

“I didn’t know you were bringing furniture,” Ryoga said as he stepped out of the way for Ukyo.

“Apparently Akane ain’t a fan a’ that chair. Was gonna throw it out. I always liked the bowl shape, so said I’d take it,” Ranma explained.

“It’s called a ‘peacock’ design,” Ukyo grumbled while heading up stairs. “Trust me, Shampoo’s gotten really into interior design ideas lately.”

“Uh, is there anything for me to grab?” Ryoga asked, turning to Ranma.

“There’s a box of books in the trunk,” Ranma replied, motioning with their head.

“Alright, I can handle that. Books are my specialty, after all,” Ryoga replied, trying his best to give a confident smirk.

Heading off to the car, Ryoga began to second guess his choice of facial expression. He’d never been good with confident smirks. Grabbing the box of books, Ryoga was silently chastising himself for trying to act suave as he headed up to Ranma’s room. Worst, he wasn’t even sure _why_ he’d tried.

He found Ranma and Ukyo hanging up various clothes. For a moment, Ryoga swore some of the shirts looked more like women’s blouses than anything, but he dismissed that. Ranma liked silk, so it was probably just fancier men’s dress shirts.

Ryoga quietly placed the box of books in the corner, before curiosity got the better of him. Opening the box quietly, Ryoga stared in amazement as he realised his entire bibliography was right there.

“Yeah, probably a little silly a’ me to bring all those, when there’s already copies in the house, but Akane didn’t want ‘em,” Ranma said, suddenly leaning over Ryoga, their black pigtail tickling the top of Ryoga’s head.

“I didn’t think you’d have _all_ of them. Some of them were pretty terrible,” Ryoga said, feeling a bit self conscious he’d been caught.

“You’re one of my best friends, of course I’d buy ‘em all,” Ranma replied with a gentle smile.

“Nah, Ranma, he’s right. I’ve bought a few of his books, but some of them _are_ stinkers,” Ukyo added.

“Oh, thanks a lot, Kuonji,” Ryoga grumbled.

“What? I was taking your side,” Ukyo replied with a laugh. “Anyway, Ran-chan says you’ve run out of food. What do you say we order some pizza or something? Maybe get a couple beers too? We should celebrate Ran-chan’s new found status free from the ol’ ball and chain.”

Both Ranma and Ryoga stared at Ukyo a moment.

“Ukyo... you’re both married _and_ a woman. I’m not sure you should be the one to push celebrating bachelorhood,” Ryoga said.

Ukyo shrugged. “I think my femininity’s pretty theoretical at this point. Anyway, I’m mostly just trying to put a positive spin on things. And have an excuse for pizza and beer. Plus, the in-laws are visiting, and... it gets boring listening to Shampoo and Cologne bickering in Mandarin when I still barely speak the language.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Ranma said. “Let’s call it celebrating.”

* * *

“It’s probably worse on Akane,” Ranma muttered, while staring at their vegetarian pizza as they all sat in the living room.

“What do you mean?” Ryoga asked.

“It’s harder for women to get out and find someone. Especially as a single mother. It’s going to be lonely for her,” Ranma explained, glumly taking a bite out of a slice of pizza.

“Eh, she’s still pretty young, and definitely pretty,” Ukyo replied.

“Plus, she’s got a history of cute guys showing up on her door with marriage proposals,” Ryoga added casually... at least until he realised how the other two were looking at him.

“You think I’m cute, do you?” Ranma asked, smirking away.

“What? I... obviously I’m just guessing by all the girls you’ve had chasing you over the years,” Ryoga blurted defensively.

He’d not been thinking about it, but, having said it and been called out on it, he had to admit Ranma _was_ looking very good right now.

“Well, for future reference, I’m gorgeous,” was Ranma’s soft reply, before they began eating more pizza. Somehow the confidence of the words didn’t seem to quite be matched by their tone.

* * *

He wasn’t sure how it happened (since he preferred to sleep in), but Ryoga found himself outside the Tendo Dojo near the crack of dawn with Ranma a couple days later. It was Sunday, and Ranma had agreed to take the kids on Sundays, once they finished training the advanced kenpo lessons.

“Thanks fer comin’ with me. Would feel weird visitin’ on my own,” Ranma said, before sliding open the back door to the Tendo household.

Ryoga noticed how Ranma’s shoulders seemed to tense right back up as they crossed the threshold onto the Tendo Dojo.

“I didn’t really have defined plans for today. Especially since you’ve cleaned my place completely in the last few days.”

Ranma gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, really needed ta distract myself. Well, I’m gonna do some warm ups in the dojo before classes start. You wanna join me?”

Ryoga shrugged. “Sure. Been a while since we last sparred. I think you look like you’ve been keeping at it better than me though.”

Ranma smiled in a way that Ryoga once more found himself thinking was cute. “You’re on.”

* * *

Sparring had shown Ryoga just how out of shape he’d gotten. While he wasn’t in bad shape, he wasn’t on the level of Ranma, who’d had the constant pressures of running a dojo. It had been over so quickly Ryoga wasn’t even sure he’d helped with Ranma’s warm up all that much.

Ryoga had ended up sitting to one side, nursing both a bruised body and a bruised ego, while Ranma trained the students. Watching Ranma give instructions, Ryoga couldn’t help but grow lost in the beauty of how Ranma moved.

It was only when the second class of the morning started that Ryoga saw Akane for the first time in years. She looked tired, but otherwise time seemed like it had been good to her. (And, if he was being honest with himself, looked more muscular than he was now.)

“Hello Ryoga. I hope Ranma’s not giving you too much of a headache,” Akane said, walking over and sitting down beside him.

Ryoga glanced over at Ranma who was running through the opening portion of the class. “It’s been nice to have the company.”

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” Akane replied, sounding more tired than angry.

* * *

Ryoga hovered nervously at the front door of the Tendo family home, Sera and Tenma watching him. Sera, with her red hair and tan, was a distinctive eight year old, while four year old Tenma’s dark blueish hair left him looking like a miniature version of his mother.

They were also both staring at him with an intensity similar to what Ranma could manage.

Thankfully, Ranma appeared from having cleaned up after lessons before Ryoga had to spend too long under those stares.

“I hope you kids aren’t being too mean to uncle Ryoga,” Ranma said, ruffling up Sera’s hair.

“I didn’t do anything,” the girl protested.

“_Yet_, I’m sure,” Ranma said with a smile. “Come on, let’s get going. I don’t think your mom or grandpa want me hovering around too long.”

“Where are we going?” Tenma asked.

“I think a good first start is taking you kids to where I’m living now. Just so you don’t worry about your dad too much,” Ranma replied.

“Ooh, that sounds fun,” Tenma said, grinning away like only a four year old could.

* * *

Ranma was out in the narrow backyard, helping Tenma to climb the small maple tree growing there. That left Ryoga alone with Sera, and she didn’t seem happy. Ryoga tried to give her a friendly smile, though he wasn’t sure how it read.

“I’m going to help mom and dad get back together, so don’t try anything,” the girl said.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me,” Sera muttered, turning back to watch her father and brother.

“Don’t worry. I’m just his friend. There’s nothing else going on,” Ryoga replied, some tiny corner of his brain protesting as he said it. He tried to ignore that.

Ryoga’s eyes drifted back out to Ranma, just seeing joy in his best friend’s eyes made Ryoga feel warm. It was then that it started to rain. Not heavily, but enough to activate Ranma’s curse and no doubt make the tree a bit slippery.

As such, Ranma picked up Tenma and brought him in. The small child was beaming away as Ranma set him down.

“That is a very good tree, uncle Ryoga,” the boy said.

“I’m glad you like it,” Ryoga replied, trying not to laugh at how earnest the boy was.

“Well, we should probably go get some food,” Ranma said. “I haven’t managed to get all the kitchen essentials yet, so... what do you two say to going out for burgers?”

“Burgers!” Tenma replied.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Sera added.

“Alright troops, let’s get going,” Ranma replied, leading the kids off to the genkan. “Oy! Hibiki-kun, that means you too!”

Ryoga blinked in surprise before hopping to his feet and heading over.

* * *

It was only once they were seated at the restaurant that Ryoga realised how the four of them might be read with Ranma in female form. Ryoga found himself furiously self conscious for the rest of the meal, both for people misinterpreting and his own awkwardness around finding Ranma’s cursed form attractive. That wasn’t the real Ranma... which Ryoga had to remind himself when he found his eyes drawn to that face many times throughout the meal.

Luckily, Tenma wanted to gab his ear off about dinosaurs, and that proved a good distraction from the misleading beauty of Ranma’s curse.

Ryoga let out a sigh of relief when they returned to his house afterwards, free from outside eyes. The drizzle continued into the evening, so Ranma and the kids set themselves up at the TV, watching some shows while Ranma promised to have more options next week. Ryoga retreated to his computer room, working on his current novel (he had deadlines to meet).

It was only as the time to take the kids back approached that Ranma went and grabbed a quick bath, returning male before grabbing an umbrella on top of his raincoat.

* * *

Ryoga swore you could cut the tension between Akane and Ranma as they dropped the children off. Strangely, though, it felt like almost all of it came from Ranma’s side.

“Did you kids have a good time?” Akane asked, her smile slightly strained when she glanced back to Ranma.

“It was alright, but we had to spend too long on the train,” Sera said. “I wish dad lived closer.”

“And it was rainy... but next week we’re going to go to the park,” Tenma added, excitement in his voice.

Akane nodded. “Well, you two should go finish up your homework.”

The kids groaned before trudging upstairs.

Akane turned back to Ranma. “You’re free for lessons next week?”

Ranma nodded. “Yeah... I, uh, I’ll see you then, uh, then?”

“Sure. Have a good trip back to Ryoga’s,” Akane said, her tone a little flat, but not quite rude.

Ryoga waved awkwardly as Ranma walked his way, getting a soft smile from Akane before she closed the door. Ryoga swore that something in her eyes showed Akane still cared for Ranma. She looked sad and tired, not angry, when she’d talked to them.

Ryoga walked quietly along side Ranma as they headed towards the nearest train station. Ryoga didn’t want to press, remembering how he’d felt every time he’d seen Akari for the first few months after his own divorce.

It was only once they’d grabbed their train that Ranma spoke.

“Sera’s not happy,” Ranma said, sighing. “I guess I can’t blame her, though.”

“She’ll get used to it,” Ryoga replied. “Kids just take a while to adjust.”

“I still feel terrible... putting her through this. I, just... I was a terrible husband.”

“You can’t put all the blame on yourself,” Ryoga said, trying to give Ranma a friendly and reassuring smile.

Ranma shook their head and laughed. “I drove her nuts. I used to recook her meals, since, well, you know what her cookin’ is like. I eventually ended up pretty much banning her from the kitchen. Cooked myself right out of a marriage.”

Ranma paused, eye’s dropping to study the floor of the train. “And... and I was just terrible to her.”

“I missed almost every birthday and anniversary. Heck, I was out wandering a good 4-6 months a year,” Ryoga said. “Sometimes, when I was actually home, I accidentally called Akari the name of the love interest in the novel I was writing. And, uh... one time that was a male character.”

“Really?” Ranma asked, visibly trying not to laugh.

“Mhm. I lost my wedding ring... somewhere. I think that one might have been the final straw, but I’m not really sure,” Ryoga replied, grimacing a bit.

He felt himself get flustered as he realised his efforts to comfort Ranma was also admitting what a terrible partner he’d been. But, well... why did that matter? He and Ranma were friends. That was it.

Even if looking at Ranma’s soft and sad eyes was making his heart race lately.

Plus, even _if_ he did have any interest in Ranma (which he was sure he didn’t), he was dreaming if he thought they were interested in him. Ranma was out of his league. And, well, Ranma had spent 10 years married to Akane, and had two kids to show for it. The odds of him being interested in guys were pretty minimal.

* * *

The motion light for the backyard flickered on, waking Ryoga up. It was probably a squirrel. Or a cat. But, well, Ryoga decided to get up to see, just in case whatever animal was behind it was getting into something.

Instead of an animal, he saw Ranma. They were running through a kata at a ferocity that exceeded anything from the class that day. After a few minutes they began visibly sweating, but Ryoga found himself still as entranced. The speed and complexity of it all exceeded anything he’d managed back in his prime. He had to try to catch back up.

* * *

It was Wednesday now, as Ryoga stumbled his way through a half remembered kata. He was still a bit embarrassed by how badly he’d done against Ranma on Sunday and utterly mesmerized by Ranma’s movements that night, and so he was taking a break from writing to try to get back into the art.

As he spun for a roundhouse kick, he realised Ranma was watching him. Suddenly ferociously self conscious, overthinking his kick, and overextending to the point he nearly lost his footing and had to stumble back to a normal standing position.

“Do you want a little help?” Ranma asked, a smirk on their face that was clearly holding back laughter.

“I, uh, just need to get back into practice,” Ryoga replied, trying not to blush.

“Well, if ya ever need any help, just ask,” Ranma said, stepping out into the yard and pulling out what seemed to be a magazine in a sleeve. “I got you a little present.”

Ryoga raised an eyebrow as he took the magazine. What on earth had Ranma gotten—he realised what it was before he finished pulling the magazine out.

Ryoga’s eye twitched as he looked at the image of a seductively posed Satomi Ran on the cover.

“You favourite, right?” Ranma asked with an obnoxious grin.

Ryoga’s efforts not to blush had failed completely at this point as he slid the magazine back into the cover. “That is the weirdest _reikin_ I’ve ever seen.”

“I found a battery for your old GPS too,” Ranma replied, still smirking.

“Really?” Ryoga asked, genuinely excited by the prospect of being able to go out on his own again. “It’s such a hard to find shape.”

“Yeah, had ta visit, like, five specialty stores in Akihabara... maybe when this battery runs out ya should get a new machine instead?”

“Heh, yeah, that would probably be a good idea,” Ryoga muttered.

“Well, either way, I’m gonna cook some dinner. I grabbed a new cookbook I wanna try some stuff from,” Ranma declared with a smile before spinning around and almost skipping back into the house.

Ryoga couldn’t help smiling as he watched Ranma head off to the kitchen, humming away to themself. Their presence has brightened up the home so much, and had helped ground Ryoga again.

Ryoga just had to work on his current confusion issues.


	3. Fluttering Heart

It was another Sunday, and that meant he and Ranma were looking after the kids again. Luckily the rain was holding off today, and so they’d taken the kids to the park as promised. It was a quiet little place, tucked away at the bottom of a hill.

Ryoga watched as Ranma ran about, playing tag with the kids. Ranma caught up and scooped Sera into the air, getting an excited laughter from the girl. Ryoga smiled as he sat on the grassy hill nearby.

Then Ranma looked his way, and Ryoga felt his cheeks go hot as he dropped his eyes. (He swore he saw Ranma smile back in the split second before he looked away, but... that was his imagination, right?)

The game of tag wrapped up a few minutes later, Ranma walking over and sitting down beside Ryoga.

“Phew, after running lessons all morning, chasing the kids around gets a bit tiring,” Ranma said, leaning back a bit and spreading their hands for support.

Ryoga felt himself growing more and more aware of how close the two of them were. He wasn’t completely sure _why_, but it was getting to him. Nervously, Ryoga hopped to his feet.

“I’ll keep them busy for a bit then,” Ryoga said, hoping to explain his awkward action.

“Ah, thanks, Ryo,” Ranma said, smiling gently.

Ryoga turned away before he could blush and hurried out to the kids.

It turned out the pair had had enough of simple games like tag, leaving Ryoga to have to play the part of the ‘evil oni’ while Sera and Tenma played defenders of some mythical kingdom. It wasn’t the most thought out worldbuilding, but the pair had an enthusiasm Ryoga couldn’t deny. In the end, he found himself enjoying the chaos, even if his few attempts to help with the imagined setting were firmly shot down.

On the way from the park to his home, Ryoga found himself drafted into shoulder ride duty by Tenma. Once home, they gathered around the tv, watching some videos Ranma had bought the day before (after a bit of finagling, since neither Ranma nor Ryoga were overly familiar with how a DVD player worked).

Part way through the second film, Tenma (who’d moved to sit on Ryoga’s lap awhile earlier) fell asleep. Looking down at the small boy, who seemed so trusting and serene right now, Ryoga could help but remember the last time he’d been home with Riku. The two boys looked quite different, but the feeling was similar enough that Ryoga suddenly had a feeling of family to the situation and he absently ruffled the young boy’s hair.

That was went Ryoga felt someone watching him, and turned to see Sera glaring at him from her seat on the other side of Ranma. Silently, she mouthed a phrase Ryoga was fairly certain was ‘I’m watching you’. Suddenly Ryoga paled a bit, and went back to watching the movie.

* * *

Ryoga’s editor had generally liked meeting face to face, and Ryoga was thrilled to be able to actually participate for the first time in months. As such, Ryoga found himself at a small sushi diner in Shibuya across from the clean middle aged man that was his editor.

“It’s good to see you, Hibiki,” the man said.

“Sorry that it’s been a while.”

“I mean, half the reason I have these meet ups is to check up on my writers. As a breed you’re not the best at keeping yourselves healthy.”

“Heh, I guess that’s true,” Ryoga replied.

“You seem to be on cloud nine right now though. Got a new girlfriend, maybe?”

“N-no. Just... just a friend moved in,” Ryoga stammered.

“Really? A _friend_ has your eyes sparkling like that?”

Ryoga blushed a little. “I... there’s... it’s not...”

“Most of the authors I know are a bit more verbose about their infatuations.”

“It’s not really an option. I... we’re both men—”

“So? How many same sex romances have you written in your books?”

“Eight? But, how is that relevant? There’s no reason to think he likes guys too,” Ryoga replied, sighing as he said it. “It’s better if I just don’t let myself think about it.”

The older man laughed. “It’s love. You can’t just tell yourself not to think about it. Take the gamble, and let yourself find out for good.”

“He’s my best friend. I don’t want to risk that,” Ryoga replied softly.

“Well, I don’t want you to let this eat you up. A pining author can be insufferable. I’ll stop meddling for now though,” the man said with a laugh. “Now then, let’s get down to this plot of yours.”

* * *

When Ryoga returned home, Ranma’s shoes were already there by the door. A warm feeling grew in his chest at the idea of having someone there waiting for him. Someone who would care if he wandered off by accident.

“Oh, you’re home,” Ranma said, appearing in the hallway, an apron on and a wooden spoon in their hand. “I’m trying out a new recipe. You’re okay with linguini?”

“What’s linguini?” Ryoga asked.

Ranma laughed. “You need to try more foreign foods. Italian’s good an’ hearty... oh, and, hey, did you want me to help you out with refreshing your katas?”

Pride warred with honesty for a moment in Ryoga’s gut. “I... yeah. That sounds good.”

Ranma smiled. “Alright. Don’t eat too much then.”

* * *

Ryoga ran through what he remembered once, just so Ranma could see where he was. He was now running through a second time, waiting for Ranma to give him some tips. Of course, it was Ranma, so he should have expected a direct approach to instruction.

He hadn’t though, and when Ranma was suddenly beside him, holding onto his arms and nudging his legs into place with one foot, Ryoga felt his brain starting to short circuit at the proximity.

“You need to bend your knees more. And you’re overextending. I know you don’t have the most reach, but if you’re trying to make up for that, well, you’ve got to use your footwork instead. Trust me, I’ve done enough sparring in my other mode,” Ranma said, simply and efficiently.

“R-right,” Ryoga muttered, hoping there wasn’t steam coming out of his ears.

“Good. From the top,” Ranma said.

Ryoga turned, ready to give a quick nod. Only, the proximity amplified the height difference between them. It was a small difference (you could barely tell unless they were right beside each other), but it had always bothered Ryoga so much when they were younger... back when he’d wanted to compete with Ranma on every front, yet always seemed to come up, well, _short_. Now though, it was just a fact about Ranma that he’d forgotten, and being reminded of it made Ryoga smile.

“Right, from the top,” Ryoga replied quietly before sliding into the kata again.

Had Ranma returned his smile?

* * *

Ryoga was working through his novel as best he could, trying to ignore that fact that he kept writing ‘Ranma’ in place of character names, when he heard the phone ring. Ryoga hopped to his feet, ready to answer the phone, only to find Ranma had beaten him.

“Hello this is the Hibiki residence—mom!?” Ranma blurted. “What? No, no... I’m not upset to hear from you... I, yes, I suppose I should have told you about the divorce, but I didn’t want you to worry.”

Ryoga noticed as Ranma’s pigtail seemed to grow more and more stiff, and possibly frizzier. Like the tail of a frightened cat.

“Sure, yes, it’s perfectly reasonable... Yeah, tomorrow-tomorrow works fine,” Ranma continued, voice stiff and frightened. “6:30? Sure. I’ll have dinner ready... Of course... yes. B-bye.”

With that, Ranma hung up. They paused a moment, staring at the phone for a moment. For a moment it seemed like they were about to hyperventilate before they turned to Ryoga with fear in their eyes.

“I have to clean. The place is a disaster... mom’ll be furious,” Ranma said.

“The place is cleaner than when I moved in,” Ryoga replied while Ranma rushed past him.

“It’s not good enough. Nothing’s good enough,” Ranma muttered, rushing off.

The house was chaos for the next four hours as Ranma rushed around, cleaning things to the point that they were shining. Finally, after rearranging the living room for better feng shui (or at least that was Ryoga’s going theory), the exertion got to Ranma.

“I think I’m going to bed. I’ll clean more in the morning,” Ranma muttered.

“Clean _more_? You could perform surgery on any surface in the house,” Ryoga said, watching Ranma walk away.

Ranma spun around, eyes wide. “Trust me. It’s not enough.”

Ryoga swore Ranma looked on the edge of tears. Ryoga wanted to pull him into a hug, to reassure him... but, well, it was like Ranma has said the night they’d shown up: guy friends didn’t hug. And Ranma surely wasn’t in the mental state to be asked about the idea of being more...

But they were also just standing there, shaking their head and muttering in a panicked tone and sliding every further into hyperventilating.

Ryoga couldn’t take it, and marched over, before pulling Ranma into a hug. “Breath. Just calm down.”

Ranma’s breathing calmed slowly, returning the hug after a moment. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Ryoga replied, stepping back a bit.

* * *

Ranma had calmed down a little with the hug the night before, but Ryoga wasn’t too surprised to see them still in a panic the next morning. Before they left for work, Ranma had been up early and somehow cleaned the house _even_ more. Ryoga felt a bit terrified to touch anything and hid in his computer room most of the day, trying not to mess anything up.

When Ranma finally arrived after work, there was a flurry as Ranma cleaned what little Ryoga had managed to dirty.

“Okay, that’s as good as I can manage,” Ranma said, sounding a bit defeated. “Wait, wait... something’s not quite right.”

“I couldn’t begin to guess,” Ryoga replied.

Suddenly realisation sparked in Ranma’s eyes as they brought their fist against their palm. “Your magazines. We’re bachelors now, so she’d probably expect to see those!”

“My magazines?” Ryoga asked as Ranma hurried upstairs. “Wait, what magazines?”

Ryoga watched the top of the staircase a moment before a thought occurred to him.

“He didn’t mean _those_ magazines, did he?” Ryoga muttered to himself.

A moment later Ranma appeared again, exactly the magazines Ryoga worried they were referring to in hand. Confused, he followed them into the living room, where they blunked the pile of ‘adult reading’ onto a side table.

“There we go. She’ll see these and think ‘mhm, yes, definitely two young men with healthy masculine appetites’,” Ranma declared.

“I... _why_ would you want your mother to see them? And they’re not even yours!?” Ryoga blurted.

Ranma stared at him for a moment. “I just explained why?”

“It didn’t... okay, fine. But don’t just leave them in the living room! Even when I was alone, I didn’t do that. We’ll, uh... I don’t know. Put them in the bathroom maybe? That’s private, but somewhere she might end up,” Ryoga explained, growing more flustered.

Ranma lit up with an innocent smile. “Right! That makes sense. You’re a genius sometimes, Ryoga.”

They then grabbed the stack of magazines and rushed off, leaving Ryoga to stand confused in the hallway. Ranma returned from the bathroom a few moments later, nodding to themself.

“I think that’s everything,” they said, walking up and standing very close to Ryoga.

Ryoga had no idea what to say, and just offered a nervous fang toothed grin, trying to reassure them. Ranma lifted their hands off their hips for a moment, and, Ryoga swore, it seemed like they were going to hug him for a second.

“Food! I almost forgot to cook!” Ranma blurted, rushing into the kitchen.

* * *

When the doorbell rang, and Ranma’s pigtail shot up in fright.

“Mom,” they whispered, before scurrying out from the kitchen and towards the front door.

Perhaps a minute later Ranma returned with Nodoka beside them. Ryoga had to admit to being impressed that only a few grey hairs and the very slightest of wrinkles hinted that Ranma’s mother was 12 years older than the first time Ryoga had met her.

Her smile seemed soft and friendly, a stark contrast to the strained smile on Ranma’s face and fear dancing in their eyes.

“This looks like a lovely little home, Hibiki,” Nodoka said, glancing over Ryoga’s shoulder at the living room for a moment, before turning and showing herself into the kitchen. “Mhmmm, yes. Very nice. Thank you for taking my son in.”

Ryoga bowed nervously. “He’s been an excellent friend for years. I couldn’t turn him away.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Nodoka said, walking into the living room and ran a finger along a shelf. Lifting her finger, it was clear there’d not been a speck of dust present. “Do you have a maid, Hibiki-kun?”

“N-no?”

“We cleaned up a bit, since you were coming,” Ranma explained.

Nodoka nodded, visibly thinking it over. “I suppose you have both been married men, but when you’re looking for a new wife it pays not to be too domestic up front. A little wildness gives her a goal in the relationship.”

“L-looking for a new wife?” Ranma asked.

“Why yes, of course. A man is not complete without a woman, and vice versa,” Nodoka replied plainly as she examined the dining room.

“I, uh... well, I think I need to wait a little bit before I’m ready to think about getting married again?” Ranma said.

Nodoka turned to Ranma, eyes filled with an intensity Ryoga couldn’t quite read. “Well... I suppose a bit of time to rest is acceptable. You did get pressured into marrying young. Perhaps you deserve a bit of time to enjoy your bachelorhood.”

Nodoka continued her tour of the house, giving Ranma life critiques as she went. Ryoga followed, trying to give Ranma silent reassurances while they grew ever more stressed. To Ryoga’s surprise, Ranma had been completely correct about the magazines, Nodoka nodding happily to herself when she saw them.

Finally the tour ended and Nodoka returned to the dining room, sitting down at the table. The other two hurried off to serve dinner, before seating themselves, though both remained on alert.

“You should probably start looking for your own place soon, Ranma,” Nodoka said. “You don’t want to overtax Hibiki’s generosity and... well, two bachelors living together could start _rumours_. Especially in this day an age.”

Ryoga suddenly found the table fascinating, hoping he wasn’t blushing.

“It’s a really convenient area though,” Ranma replied. “Nice short commute to work, lots of shops nearby, and, well, the rent is good and cheap. I think I’ll use that to save up for a while?”

“You’re charging rent?” Nodoka asked, Ryoga feeling nervous as her eyes landed on him, even when he wasn’t making eye contact.

“Ah, well... Ranma said he didn’t want to freeload again. So I’m charging him the minimum rent he’d accept,” Ryoga replied.

“You a very honourable man, Hibiki.”

* * *

When Nodoka finally left Ranma seemed ready to have a mental breakdown, and Ryoga completely understood why. Nodoka’s consistent statements about Ranma needing to find a new wife, and insistence that men and women needed one another, had begun to feel like passive jabs at Ryoga’s own prolonged bachelor status.

“She just has to control _everything_,” Ranma fumed while gathering up some dishes. Picking up a glass, they absently bounced it in their hand before suddenly lifting it as if to throw it. Then they froze, their face twitching a moment before they let out an annoyed sigh and put the glass back down.

“What was that about?” Ryoga asked, looking down at the glass.

Ranma let out a sigh. “I was going to throw it. I was really going to throw it... Mom totally drove me up the wall.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Ranma stared at Ryoga, confusion written on their face. “I’d have a broken cup and I’d still be angry.”

“Sometimes breaking something is a good way to calm down,” Ryoga replied with a shrug. “I mean, you can take it too far, but you can take not doing it too far too.”

Ranma looked back down at the glass, and then whipped it against the wall. To the surprise of both men, it _bounced_, and proceeded to hit Ranma in the nose with all the speed they’d tossed it with.

“Ow! Ow!”

Ryoga stared at the glass, now lying on the living room floor for a moment, before turning back to Ranma. “I... what just happened?”

“I forgod dat was one of the industrial streng’ plexiglass glasses Shampoo had bought Akane and I for our anniversary,” Ranma explained, heading over to grab some napkins to stop their current nosebleed.

Ryoga stood there, in confused shock, for a few seconds. “Okay... we’ll try that lesson again another time. And make sure the thing you try to break isn’t indestructible next time.”

Ranma nodded, still holding tissues to their nose. “Sounds good.”

Ryoga had to do _something_ to save the night, but what...

“You know, here’s some good bars near here,” Ryoga said, placing his hand on Ranma’s (tense) shoulder and trying to give them a reassuring smile. “Let’s get out of the house without having kids to worry about for a change.”

“Dat sounds _very_ good right now,” Ranma replied softly, trying to smile despite the tissues they were holding.

After waiting a little bit for Ranma’s nosebleed to stop, the pair then set out.

The walk to the nearest commercial street wasn’t too long, part of why Ranma liked the house so much. Ryoga didn’t remember the directions to any specific bar, but did remember the names well enough to know when they finally found a good one. The pair slid into a booth, and were quickly served by a pretty young waitress.

When the drinks appeared, Ryoga raised a bit of an eyebrow at the colourful appearance of Ranma’s drink, and felt self conscious about how fancy it looked compared to the pitcher of beer he’d ordered.

“It, uh... it tastes pretty good, and has a higher alcohol content?” Ranma offered.

“That’s fair,” Ryoga replied, before pouring a glass of beer for himself. “Well, cheers?”

“Cheers,” Ranma said, clinking their glass against Ryoga’s.

They had a slightly goofy grin as they did so, and Ryoga felt his heart flutter a bit at that. Ryoga’s solution was to try and focus on his glass, not wanting to spring a deep conversation on Ranma when they’d already had such a stressful day. And then his second one. By his third the idea of staying quiet was starting to feel trickier.

Looking up at Ranma, who was drinking a different very colourful cocktail, Ryoga felt like his heart was thumping in his throat.

“She’s never happy,” Ranma muttered, playing with the small red umbrella in their drink.

Briefly, Ryoga wondered if he’d still be able to swing around his old umbrella.

“I bet you, if I hadn’t cleaned the place enough, she’d have said I’d never be able to find a wife if I was living like a slob,” Ranma continued, now spinning the drink umbrella around between their fingers.

Ranma just looked so emotionally fragile, and yet... so handsome for it. Ryoga frantically finished his pitcher to keep himself from admitting it. It just wasn’t the time.

“And she just kept repeating ‘a man needs a woman to be complete’... bleh. What does that even mean in my case?” Ranma asked, having done an impressive impression of their mother.

The extra alcohol from finishing the pitcher pushed Ryoga into a new paradigm. Suddenly what Nodoka said made sense... sort of.

“Hey, maybe there’s a point to it. You don’t want to end up like me, lost and sliding into apathy,” Ryoga replied. Internally he added ‘and falling in love with your best friend, just because he’s the only one around you have any emotional connection too’.

“You really think that’s the issue?” Ranma asked, sliding the mini-umbrella into their now empty glass.

“I just... just know that I’m in serious withdrawal for interacting with women... it’s probably not healthy,” Ryoga said, as much to convince himself that that was the issue as anything. (Not that he had an issue with the idea of people being gay, but... well, he’d been _reasonably_ happily married to a woman for years, so... he was straight, then, right? It made perfect sense in his new drunken logic system.)

“What about Ukyo?” Ranma asked, before waving down the waitress. “Somethin’ watermelon flavoured, please.”

“A bit of saké for me please,” Ryoga added, before turning back to Ranma as the waitress left. “I don’t know if Ukyo counts... but she’s married, so-so... even without her masculinity, she’d be a different category... also, a lesbian? If that label fits... Or doesn’t count at all?”

“I guess that makes sense,” Ranma half whispered.

Ryoga nodded, starting to feel confident that he’d solved his ‘fallen in love with Ranma’ problem. It was just misaimed loneliness. It was so obvious _now_. “Plus, you _clearly_ need to unwind a little. Maybe... maybe we’re a bit drunk tonight, but we should really try to find some girls to hook up with soon. It’d do us both good.”

Ranma shook their head. “I don’t know. I... I’d feel like I was betrayin’ Akane if I started datin’ another woman so soon. Ya know?”

“I guess that’s fair,” Ryoga muttered.

It seemed obvious to Ryoga then that Ranma only mentioning women proved he had never been in the running. That hurt more than he’d expected. His new ‘logic’ train firmly collapsed at the irrefutable heartache.

The night started getting a bit blurrier at that point, Ryoga wanting to drown the sorrows of a relationship ended before it started. And trying to squash the strange feeling of betrayal it bred. Ranma had done nothing wrong... it was all from Ryoga’s side.

Soon enough, he found himself stumbling home, using Ranma as support (wishing emotional support was as easy to ask for). When they made it to the door, Ryoga slipped off from Ranma’s support and began fumbling for a key. He didn’t have _that_ many... but which one was it?

As he continued to debate the keys, Ranma reached out and placed their hand on Ryoga’s shoulder.

“So... ya really need a femiminin—uh, womanly presence in yer life?”

Ryoga blinked, and stared up at Ranma, feeling himself getting lost in their soft (if cold in colour) eyes.

He could kiss them right now. And he wanted to.

“More... more than you know,” Ryoga lied. What he wanted was Ranma.

He turned away and unlocked the door. stumbling into the small genkan and tossing off his shows (and one sock in the process). “It’s been too long since I’ve held someone soft... I think I’m getting desperate.”

With that last bit of defensive falsehood, Ryoga stumbled upstairs, aiming for his bedroom, trying to tell himself it wasn’t a lie. He ended up in his study first, but found the right room a moment later. Sloppily, he tossed his pants and shirt off and then fell into bed.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard his door creak open. Rolling to see what was going on, he was greeted by the sight of a beautiful woman with hair hanging loose and only a pair of sporty underwear on. Ryoga’s eyes were still a bit too blurry with exhaustion (and drunkenness) to make out more in the low light.

“I... uh... I hope I’m soft enough?” she said.

The voice Ryoga recognised, and he shot up to a sitting position (perhaps a bit too quickly for his stomach’s sake). “Ranma!? W-what are you doing?”

They leaned forward, placing a hand on Ryoga’s knee. “I want to... to help you. Like you helped me. This is what you need, right?”

They were smiling, but there was something in their eyes (which now seemed even bigger) that whispered at... Fear? Sorrow? Ryoga was too drunk to tell.

“Ya’d better hurry up ‘n act, Ryo,” Ranma said. “I... I kinda forgot how much drunker I get when I switch...”

Ryoga just stared into Ranma’s eyes, unable to move as his cheeks were burning. Forcing Ranma into cursed mode was the _last_ thing Ryoga wanted to do. Well, more specifically forcing Ranma into cursed moe to do what Ranma was offering... that was the last thing he’d wanted to do to his best friend. “I... I...”

Ranma leaned in just a little more, lips mere centimetres for Ryoga’s as they closed their eyes. They hovered a moment, and then fell forward.

Only, their lips did not meet his. Instead, Ranma fell onto his chest and began to snore. Ryoga stared down and the petite woman, not completely sure what to do. Ranma’s face looked so serene, pressed against his chest and, in the low light, Ryoga could almost forget is wasn’t Ranma’s proper face.

Guilt swelling in his chest at what he’d lead Ranma to do, Ryoga scooped up their petite frame and carried them out into the hall. On his way to Ranma’s bedroom, Ryoga decided to stop in the bathroom, splashing a bit of hot water onto Ranma’s face and returning them to their male form. Then, he carried them the last leg of the way and put them in their bed.

“Let’s hope we both forget this in the morning,” Ryoga whispered, gently brushing a bit of hair from Ranma’s face before stumbling back to bed.


	4. Confusion

Ryoga woke up briefly at a reasonable hour, because he’d forgotten to turn his alarm off. Half awake for a few minutes, all he could think about was how much his head hurt.

Sleep protected him a few hours longer, before the sun began to shine into his bedroom too bright for him to ignore. Waking up properly, he realised the extra sleep had just been extra time to grow dehydrated, and his head was hurting even more.

He groggily made his way downstairs and to the kitchen. He almost took it for granted how easily he made it there, forgetting how terrible his directional senses had gotten before Ranma arrived.

Ranma.

Oh gods... he and Ranma. Had they?

Closing his eyes and wracking his painful brain, he managed to remember that nothing had happened. As if it were but an afterthought, his memories also reminds him that Ranma had been female at the time.

Ryoga’s cheeks went hot as he remember that.

“Don’t think that Ryoga. That’s his curse, you idiot,” he whispered sharply to himself as he walked over and grabbed a glass.

Filling it up in sink, he found himself failing very badly to forget the sight.

Realising the hangover meant he wasn’t going to write any time soon, he grabbed some leftovers out of the fridge and plopped himself down in front of the TV. The terrible writing of daytime dramas provided a good confidence boost to his own writing skills. And was convoluted enough to keep him distracted.

When his headache was firmly dead, he went up to his study, hoping to get at least some writing done. (Sure, he was ahead of schedule for the first time in years, but he wasn’t sure how long that would last and wanted to capitalise on it.)

Unfortunately, two hour later he realised his characters had ended up in the bedroom, and... he wasn’t sure that his publishing company would be happy with some of the things he’d written. He was also quite embarrassed to have written it, and and was blushing as he tried to hunt for anything salvageable while deleting the rest.

Realising he wasn’t going to get any useful writing done with his mind flashing to events of the night before (and events that didn’t happen, but _almost_ did), he decided to try to get distract himself with some other beautiful women. Sure, they were on glossy paper, not sprawled over him in his bed, but it might work.

Or he was just a disaster, because it was like his imagination super imposed Ranma’s face onto the gravure idol on the cover.

Flustered, he returned to his study and booted up his computer’s chess game. It was very easy to lose hours at a time struggling (and failing miserably) against his it’s machine mind.

* * *

His heart fluttered a bit, as it had done every time he heard Ranma come home lately. He was half out of his chair, ready to go down and greet his best friend and roommate, when he realised he’d no doubt have to address what happened the night before.

What on earth was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, how was work? Oh, and by the way, yes, I would definitely have slept with you last night if you hadn’t passed out’ maybe?

That was a terrible line.

He was an author. He’d written romance. He’d even won awards for some of his romances... but as soon as it was reality he became a mess. Frustrated, he turned to his computer, opened up a blank document, and decided to try to write out a simulation of how the exchange might go.

It didn’t end well for simulated Ryoga: a black eye and his best friend leaving for good.

Ryoga shook his head, and tried to tell himself he was just being negative. Akari had always complained about how he always assumed the worst about things. Still, didn’t it pay to prepare for the worst? Only expecting things to work out was setting yourself up for heartbreak.

Afterall, both him and Ranma had ended up divorcés. He would have been called _horribly pessimistic_ if he’d predicted it back when they were teenagers.

Unfortunately his rumbling stomach betrayed his efforts to hide, and he found himself forced to sneak down to the kitchen. He silently winced when he spotted Ranma at the stove.

“Oh, uh... h-hey there, Ryo...ga,” Ranma said. “I was wondering if you were home or not.”

The fanged author in question decided it was very important to study the floor right now. “You’re cooking something?”

“Yeah... thought I’d make some yakisoba?”

Ryoga nodded, still too flustered to look up. Still, Ranma seemed fairly steady. Maybe... maybe they didn’t remember last night?

Ryoga had never tried to mix jusenkyo magic with alcohol, who knew what that did to your memory?

He decided to raise his eyes to look at Ranma. If Ranma didn’t remember... well, Ryoga wouldn’t say anything to them. And, hey, he had some extra luck with Ranma looking the other way, focused on food preparation. (It must have been a complicated dish... Ranma usually seemed to barely pay attention to what they were cooking.)

“Uh... how was work?” Ryoga asked.

There was an odd ‘shunk’ from the cutting board as Ranma’s pigtail shot up.

“That bad?”

“Er, yeah... I... well, I think the one photographer is only there because of who he’s married to,” Ranma replied, their voice sounding oddly strained. “That’s, uh... that’s definitely a problem some day.”

“Mhm. Gotta love nepotism,” Ryoga offered.

Ranma dove back into chopping vegetables, apparently not in a conversational mood. Ryoga slipped over into the living room and turned on the tv. He didn’t really pay attention to it, but it provided decent white noise as he zoned out.

Ranma had forgotten. All that stress over nothing. Now Ryoga just had to forget about it himself.

“Supper’s ready,” Ranma said, walking past into the dining room with a couple plates in hand.

Ryoga headed over to the table, sitting quietly across from Ranma. Briefly glancing at Ranma’s face he realised he was a long way from forgetting about it himself, and chose to focus on his food the rest of the meal.

“I’m going to go workout in the yard,” Ranma said as Ryoga was finishing his own meal. “You’ll handle dishes right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Ryoga replied, not looking up.

He finished his own meal quietly and headed into the kitchen to clean all the dishes made. As he washed, he found himself distracted by a rather large gash in the cutting board. Had Ranma really been _that_ stressed about work?

Ryoga washed it all the same, and turned to go retreat into his study again.

Unfortunately for him, he turned _towards_ the window, and caught sight of Ranma moving through some sort of improvised one sided combat routine. He could tell it wasn’t a kata from the level of concentration on Ranma’s face. Remembering things, even when Ranma was going full bore in a kata, didn’t quite have the spark of intensity there.

As out of practice as he was, Ryoga still felt like he could tell Ranma’s imagined opponent was someone a fair bit shorter, from the side of the fight he _could_ see. Whatever the case, Ryoga was mesmerised by the frantic nature of it. That sharp look in Ranma’s eyes, whenever they’d faced impossible odds and refused to give up; Ryoga had always admired it. And now...

And now he was certain that he loved it.

The smirk that spread onto Ranma’s face as they wrapped up the combat, apparently victorious, just sealed it. Ryoga didn’t have a whisper of denial left in his heart. The only question left on his mind was whether to bring up what happened last night or not.

As he was warring with that inside him, he saw Ranma shrink and then wince. Blinking, Ryoga saw it was drizzling out, the droplets small enough to be easily missed (or at least easily missed compared to their effects on Ranma).

The damp redhead walked from the rain, and locked eyes with him. Ryoga’s brain deserted him. There were now distinctly too many things to process right now. As such, all he could do was keep staring.

Slowly, he realised there was a pained look in Ranma’s eyes, and he spun mechanically to head into the hallway. As he went, Ryoga made sure not to even glance anywhere but straight ahead. He was going to stay out of Ranma’s way for the rest of the evening. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but avoidance had always been the solution he found easiest.

* * *

Ryoga’s night was marked by a dream that rather fit the theme of his struggle the day before. Specifically, an alternate version of the encounter with Ranma where they’d approached him male instead. What happened after was a bit confused, probably due to his lack of familiarity with how things would go... but they definitely went further than the had in reality.

Ryoga was woken rather unpleasantly by his having rolled off the bed. Sweaty and tangled up in his sheets, it took him a few moments to unravel himself and turn to check his clock. It was 14 minutes until the alarm was supposed to go off. Sighing, Ryoga lay down and stared at the ceiling.

He might have fallen asleep, because it seemed like a lot less than 14 minutes before his alarm went off.

Groggily, he shut it off and wandered down stairs to get some breakfast. Apparently a night of rolling about had worked up his appetite because he was starving. Of course, Ranma was already up and cooking something.

Ryoga felt his cheeks go hot with his dream still fresh in his mind.

“Oh, uh, mornin’ Ryo?” Ranma said, while Ryoga found himself not quite able to meet their eyes.

“M-morning,” Ryoga muttered. “I’ll, uh, I’ll leave the kitchen to you.”

“There’s plenty of room for both of us?”

“N-nah. I’ll just get in the way while you’re cooking. And you’ve got to lunch to make too,” Ryoga replied as he headed into the living room.

He turned the tv on before Ranma could offer anything else. Ryoga simply wasn’t awake enough for a serious conversation right now. Plus, Ranma had to leave in about 30 minutes. It wasn’t the time to confess his feelings.

So he just let himself get drawn into the vague platitudes of morning television.

“Well, uh, I’m off now,” Ranma called out from the front door.

“Have a good day,” Ryoga called back as he headed into the kitchen to make breakfast.

* * *

Taking a break from his writing, Ryoga glanced out the window for a bit. He then realised he had no idea what time it was. Looking back at the clock on the computer, he was surprised to see it was almost 6pm.

That led to two realisations: he was hungry and Ranma was late.

The former he could solve, but the latter... had something happened? Ranma wasn’t usually this late. What could have caused it? A car accident? No... surely Ranma could handle that fine.

A bus or... no. There was no point going down that path. At least not until all other options had been dealt with. Maybe Ranma was just doing a bit of shopping after work? Or was being kept late at...

What _did_ Ranma do as a job? Ryoga realised he had no idea. Ranma had always asked about Ryoga’s work or talked about family matters. Ranma’s job, however, was just this mysterious blackhole.

Ryoga decided that eating might help calm him down and made some instant noodles. By the time he was done eating, it was pushing closer to 6:30pm, and he felt it was reasonable to start properly worrying.

He went to the phone, and decided to call Akane first. Maybe Ranma had felt like visiting the kids? Or, if they weren’t, Akane might have the best idea of where Ranma might go.

“Hello?” Akane’s voice asked.

“Hey, Akane? Uh, Ranma hasn’t come home yet, and I thought I’d check if he was there?”

“Why would he be here?”

Ryoga shrugged, then remember he had to actually verbalise. “I dunno. Maybe to visit the kids?”

“Well, no. He’s not here,” Akane replied. “Did you two have a fight or something?”

“Fight? No. No. It, uh, it wasn’t a fight,” Ryoga replied, his cheeks hot as he thought about Akane’s reaction to what had (almost) happened.

“Trust me, with Ranma sometimes you’ve had a fight without knowing it,” Akane said. “He’s too subtle for his own good sometimes.”

Ryoga blinked. Had he done something to properly upset Ranma?

“Do you know where he might have gone?” Ryoga asked.

“Maybe Kuonjis’? Or the Taigas’? I don’t know... He was never great with communication, so I’m not sure where he’d go.”

“Alright. I’ll try phoning around,” Ryoga replied. “Thanks, and bye.”

“Bye,” Akane said, before hanging up.

Ryoga crouched down to try to hunt for his phone book. Ranma had cleaned up, but Ryoga didn’t quite follow the planning behind the new sorting system.

Suddenly the phone rang and Ryoga jumped a bit in surprise, and banged his head against the overhanging shelf of small table the phone sat on.

“Ow, ow,” Ryoga grumbled, before reaching up and grabbing the phone. “Hello, Hibiki residence?”

“_Nihao_ Ryoga,” Shampoo’s voice rang out. “I realised it was getting late, so I thought I’d phone you. Just wanted to let you know that Ranma is here picking up some things we’d offered to store.”

“Ranma’s there? My Ranma?” Ryoga asked, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders at the news.

“Oh, yes. _Your_ Ranma,” Shampoo replied, her grin almost audible over the phone.

Ryoga winced at his wording. “What sort of things is Ranma picking up? Should I make some room?”

“Mostly clothing,” Shampoo replied. “Just a suitcase or two.”

“Oh, okay. I wonder why he didn’t just bring them here to start,” Ryoga said, growing a bit lost in thought.

“You will see,” Shampoo replied. “Bye-bye.”

With that, she hung up before Ryoga could reply.

* * *

It was another hour or so before Ryoga heard the door open. He rushed down to greet Ranma, only to short circuit a bit as he arrived.

It was Ranma, but their red hair was down, hanging loose, while they wore a woman’s t-shirt with a cute heart pattern on, and a sporty looking skirt.

“Hey Ryo, sorry I didn’t phone ya right away,” Ranma said, their smile seeming a little off to Ryoga.

Ryoga found himself staring, completely confused.

“Would you be a gentleman and help me with the suitcases?” Ranma asked, their eyes large and cute.

“Pardon?” Ryoga asked. What in the world was Ranma up to?

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it myself,” Ranma said with a bit of dramatic flare.

Ryoga just watched as the petite redhead tossed the suitcases on their shoulders and headed up the stairs. The tight sporty skirt drew Ryoga’s eyes, and he didn’t quite register that until Ranma was out of sight.

It was then that a thought hit Ryoga’s mind: had Ranma noticed their interest and decided to torment them, like they’d done in high school?

That thought made Ryoga’s gut sink.

Hopefully something else was going on. Ryoga didn’t have any ideas of what else could be the cause, but he was going to tell himself there had to hope.


	5. Uncertainty

After shutting off his alarm clock, Ryoga noticed the scent of cooking in the air. Heading down, drawn by his stomach more than his brain, he spotted Ranma cooking up a storm in the kitchen, still in girl mode and looking dressed the part of a proper modern housewife.

Confused, Ryoga ducked back behind the wall, trying to figure out how to proceed. He didn’t really have any ideas, especially not while barely better than half awake.

“Ryoga, is that you?” Ranma’s voice called out sweetly.

Well, his cover was blown, so Ryoga steeled himself and stepped out from his hiding place. “Morning, Ranma. Looks like you’re hungry this morning?”

“I’m—oh! You mean the food I’m cooking? Nah, I thought I’d make some breakfast for you too,” Ranma said with a smile Ryoga could only describe as domestic.

“For me?” was all Ryoga could manage in reply.

“Mhm. I noticed you were mostly just grabbing leftovers for your breakfasts, and that’s really not the way to start your day. Plus, I wanted to do a little more with you charging me such low rent,” Ranma explained.

Ryoga nodded slowly. “I mean, You already clean the place. And cook dinner. You’re doing plenty.”

Ranma began to gather up plates of food, displaying their skills developed as a waitress by carrying everything over in one trip. “I really don’t mind, Ryo-chan.”

“Pardon?” Ryoga asked, not sure he trusted his ears just now.

“I-I thought it sounded cute,” Ranma replied, seeming almost flustered. “If you don’t like it, then, I’m sorry.”

“Uh, well, you’ve been calling Ukyo Ucchan for roughly forever, so, uh, if you want to give me a nickname I’m fine with that,” Ryoga stammered, still on the back foot.

Ranma beamed up at him for a moment, making the poor author’s heart flutter. At least until he reminded himself that Ranma was in cursed form for unclear reasons, and that he needed to stop admiring a face that was a product of Jusenkyo’s malicious magic.

“So, are ya gonna eat or not?” Ranma asked, an eyebrow raised.

“S-sorry. Yeah, sure thing.”

With that, Ryoga sat down and began sampling the traditional spread Ranma had laid out. Before he’d finished, Ranma had hopped up and rushed over to prepare lunch. Ryoga found himself distracted by the flurry of activity, wondering why Ranma would go through the trouble of making him breakfast when it ate into their lunch preparation time. He decided right now wasn’t really the time to ask, however, and stuck to quietly eating and watching Ranma rush off to the door.

“Well, I’m off to work. See _you_ later,” Ranma announced.

“Uh, yeah. See you later,” Ryoga replied, still confused.

-b-

The evening had seen Ranma stay in girl mode, using the ‘Ryo-chan’ nickname a couple more times. Ryoga was as lost as he’d been in the morning, feeling like Ranma wasn’t being as over the top as when they were in high school and they’d flirt in a fake way to mess with him, but... he was still struggling to figure out an alternative explanation. With the possibility of intentions being somehow malicious, Ryoga also feared directly confronting Ranma about it, not wanting to risk things spiralling. All the while hoping Ranma would get bored shortly.

When things continued the next morning, Ryoga decided he needed advice. Once Ranma had left for work, Ryoga hunted down his address book, eventually finding Mousse’s phone number. It was a few rings of the phone later and a groggy sounding Mousse muttered something in Mandarin.

“Sorry, I thought you’d be up by now,” Ryoga said, hoping he sounded sufficiently apologetic.

“Late close at the restaurant last night,” Mousse muttered, thankfully in Japanese this time. “And, that’s Hibiki, right?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

There was a pause that Ryoga could only assume was the other man nodding. “Uh, not that I mind you calling, but... what’s up?”

“Ranma’s being weird,” Ryoga replied flatly. “I don’t know how to interpret it, and was hoping I could get a 2nd opinion.”

“Saotome’s always been weird, but I can try to help. Whaaa-what’s he doing?” Mousse asked, yawning slightly towards the end.

“He’s acting all... housewife-y,” Ryoga replied, not sure if that was the clearest way to put it.

“I heard he always liked cooking?” Mousse replied.

“Nah, nah. Like, he’s been in girl mode for the last 48 hours or so, dressing really feminine. He started calling me ‘Ryo-chan’, and he’s insisting on making me breakfast. He’s using more feminine speech than usual too,” Ryoga explained.

“Hm,” Mousse muttered, Ryoga waiting patiently for a reply as he thought. “Maybe he misses having a feminine presence around? It’s just you two now, and his subconscious, or whatever, is trying to fill a void?”

Ryoga scratched his chin, thinking it over. “I guess that could make sense. Trying to cope with the divorce in his own weird way.”

“Exactly. When I moved out from the Neko Hanten, I found myself playing songs Shampoo or Cologne loved that I didn’t actually care for that much. I was just used to hearing the songs and it felt weird not hearing them,” Mousse explained.

“Do you think I should try to talk him out of it?” Ryoga said.

“I heard he was in a pretty bad way with the divorce?” Mousse asked, his tone concerned.

“Yeah, he was pretty emotional when he first showed up and still seems a bit jumpy,” Ryoga replied.

“I’d just leave him be then,” Mousse said. “Let him work through it at his own pace.”

“Alright. It’s just so weird,” Ryoga muttered. “But, thanks for the advice.”

“No problem,” Mousse replied cheerily. “Just, phone a little later next time, alright?”

“Heh, yeah. Sorry for that. Well, I’ll talk to you later,” Ryoga said.

Once Mousse had given his goodbye, Ryoga hung up and headed upstairs. He made a wrong turn and briefly ended up in his bedroom, but was soon in his study. It was only as he sat down that he wondered if what had happened the night after the trip to the bar would have been relevant to what he’d told Mousse. Shaking his head, Ryoga decided that was something he’d never tell another soul about, for Ranma’s sake. You just didn’t tell people something so severely embarrassing your best friend did while drunk.

Especially not when it was embarrassing for yourself too.

He tried to distract himself with writing, but found it difficult to concentrate with so much on his mind. After a couple hours he accepted there was no point in trying to ignore the issue any longer. Saving his file, to protect the two hundred or so words he’d managed, Ryoga rubbed the bridge of his nose and started to think things over.

What could he do to help Ranma get over this more quickly? If Ranma felt that a feminine presence was missing... was it better for him to start trying to be a bit more domestic?

Ryoga pulled up some recipes online, wondering if there was anything decent that he could cook to help Ranma out. He was a little lost with some of them, especially the foreign cuisine, but he was beginning to think he had some decent ideas when someone knocked on his study door.

Jumping a little, Ryoga hurried over to the door, opening it to find Ranma there, smiling up at him. Had he really lost track of time so much?

“Hey, Ryo-chan. You alright? I called out that I was home, but ya didn’t answer,” Ranma said, what Ryoga hoped was honest concern in their big blue eyes.

“Sorry, I got sucked into reading some recipes,” Ryoga replied.

“Oh? Are you doing research for yer novel?” Ranma asked, the redhead going up on their toes to look over Ryoga’s shoulder and to look at his monitor. “I could help ya, if ya had questions.”

“No, no, I was just wanting to help you out a little. I’m not a complete disaster in the kitchen after all,” Ryoga said.

Ranma’s eyes widened nervously, glancing back to Ryoga’s face. “Do you not like me cooking for you?”

“What? No, I like your cooking. It’s delicious. I just thought I could help you out a little more,” Ryoga replied, not wanting to worry Ranma.

If their mental state was really as fragile as Mousse thought, then Ryoga was going to try to be as gentle as possible. He didn’t want to risk Ranma’s emotional stability. He really hoped his usual incompetence with emotions wasn’t going to turn this whole thing into a disaster.

“Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind having you around in the kitchen more,” Ranma said with a surprisingly feminine little shrug and some fluttered eyelashes.

Ryoga couldn’t deny that his heart fluttered in a way to mirror those eyelashes and hated himself for it. This was his best friend, in a mentally fragile state and a cursed body, and here he was thinking they looked cute like that.

“Well, let’s get cookin’ then, eh Ryo-chan?” Ranma asked heading off towards the stairs. “It’s almost time for dinner after all.”

Ryoga could only offer a nod and follow after his friend down to the kitchen. Ranma already had the meal planned, a mushroom udon soup, but they still found ways for Ryoga to help out, slicing some of the vegetables and tofu up. Ryoga had to admit he rather liked working together with Ranma like this, even if he found himself a little thrown whenever he spotted Ranma’s red hair.

Still, when they sat down for the meal, Ryoga couldn’t help smiling, and he felt glad to see Ranma returning a smile his way. In hindsight, he really should have offered to help with this stuff earlier... Ranma had just always been so much better of a cook he’d felt like he’d just be in the way. He couldn’t help feeling guilty, so sure that his leaving all domestic duties to Ranma had to be partially responsible for his best friend’s current state.

As they finished eating, Ranma began to look strangely nervous, leaving Ryoga unsure what was going on. Had he somehow done something wrong? Should he rush in and offer to handle the dishes, or was he pushing Ranma out of this defensive mental state too fast? Ryoga really needed to do more reading on psychology...

“Did, um, did you still want me to give you some martial arts tips?” Ranma asked, cheeks about as red as their hair.

Ryoga blinked. That wasn’t what he was expecting at all. “Pretty sure I still need the help, so... if it’s not too big of a bother?”

Ranma’s whole face lit up, an ear to ear smile spreading across their face. “Awesome! I-well, not awesome that you still need help, but awesome that you still want help from _me_.”

As Ranma skipped into the kitchen with the dishes from dinner, Ryoga found himself completely at a loss. Ranma had always been an enigma at times, with some of the weirdest ideas about what behaviour was masculine or feminine sometimes. Still, even having a strange mental desire for femininity... Ranma had been married to Akane (possibly the only person Ryoga knew who was more into martial arts than Ranma) for ten years, how could they still see martial arts practice as gendered?

Ryoga felt himself almost wondering if Ranma was trying to fit _his_ ideals of femininity. Or... Ryoga rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was going to give himself a headache if he kept trying to think this through.

Hopping to his feet, Ryoga decided to head off towards the backyard, starting his warm ups while Ranma finished up the dishes. He was running through some punch practices when Ranma appeared again, still in female form.

“Your stance is definitely improving,” the redhead said, giving Ryoga a once over.

“I think I’ve still got a little muscle memory left, just having to access it,” Ryoga replied, trying not to feel too self conscious as he kept running through the repetitive practice.

“Wanna try some light sparring, or do kata practice?” Ranma asked, walking over in front of Ryoga.

“Light sparring sounds good,” Ryoga replied, hoping that the familiar feeling of sparring might help shake Ranma out of all this.

The redhead gave him a grin and the pair stood to give one another a quick bow before sliding into combat stances. Ranma wiggled their eyebrows in a playful way, and Ryoga picked up that they were waiting for him to make the first move. Nodding, Ryoga lunged ahead with a barrage of punches. Ranma dodged and swerved, a smile on their face the whole time. Ryoga let himself get a little distracted by that cocky smile, so delightfully Ranma (whatever form they were in), and got himself punched in the gut in reply.

Staggering back a little, Ryoga had to admit he was surprised Ranma’s diminutive female form was really that strong. He remembered those blows having been softer than Ranma’s male punches before... clearly his own conditioning had declined in the past decade or so.

The rest of the fight didn’t go much better for Ryoga, Ranma outclassing him constantly. Finally, he overextended a punch and found Ranma pulling out a surprise judo style throw and pin.

Lying on his back, Ryoga found himself staring up at Ranma, their hair a sweaty mess and their eyes filled with confidence. So lost in those sparkling grey-blue eyes, Ryoga could barely remember which form Ranma was in. His heart racing, both from sparring and Ranma’s proximity with the pin, Ryoga was certain he was blushing. Unconsciously, he felt himself drawn to Ranma’s lips, wanting to kiss them so badly. Only at the last minute did he freeze, realising what he was doing, and what form Ranma was in.

Panicked, he scrambled back, Ranma’s grip releasing with surprising ease. He wasn’t sure how to read Ranma’s expression, but knew that a kiss in female form was the last thing his friend needed right now, in such a fragile mental state. Not that he was sure Ranma would have responded well to Ryoga trying to kiss them in birth form either.

“I, uh, I guess we should probably wash up now, with the grass stains and sweat and stuff,” Ryoga muttered, hoping he could paper things over with shaky damage control.

“S-sure, yeah,” Ranma muttered.

Ryoga got to his feet and to the back door, when he realised Ranma was still sitting on the ground.

“Uh, did you want to head in too? It’d save on hot water?” Ryoga offered, trying to ignore how bold he felt and telling himself it was for the sake of encouraging Ranma to return to male form.

“Nah, I’ll practice out here for a bit. Your furo’s awkwardly small for two people anyhow,” Ranma replied, not bothering to turn back Ryoga’s way.

Shrugging, Ryoga headed off to wash up. He’d try again later.

-b-

The next couple days had gone similarly enough, Ranma staying in female form and acting like a model housekeeper. Ryoga did his best to help, and felt like Ranma appreciated it, but saw no real change in Ranma’s behaviour. He was really at a loss of what strategy to try next.

Sunday morning rolled around, and Ryoga dragged himself out of bed at close to 5am, angrily shutting off the alarm clock. Ranma was still so awkward at the dojo, so Ryoga considered the horridly early wake up time was a small price to pay in exchanging for helping Ranma’s peace of mind.

Trudging down the stairs, his only thoughts on acquiring caffeine, he barely noticed Ranma was already in the kitchen. His half asleep mind noticed the prepared pot of coffee more, so he only muttered vaguely to Ranma as he grabbed a mug for himself.

It was only as his body processed the caffeine that he noticed the nervous look on Ranma’s face. Ryoga tried to figure out what could be causing that, when it slowly occurred to him that he was looking _up_ at Ranma.

“G-good morning,” Ranma muttered, looking strangely guilty.

“Good morning?” Ryoga offered, not quite sure what was going on.

Was Ranma over the strange episode? What was going on here?

“I, uh... I teach the mens’ class, so-so thought I should be in guy mode for that,” Ranma said, not managing to hold eye contact with Ryoga for long.

“Makes sense,” Ryoga offered, while digging out something quick to microwave for breakfast.

He kept an eye on Ranma as the dumplings reheated, noting that Ranma was dressed reasonably masculine again.

“You, uh, you don’t have to come along if you don’t want to,” Ranma muttered as Ryoga munched on his dumplings.

“Why wouldn’t I? It gets me out of the house, and I don’t mind being there for you while you deal with the awkwardness around Akane and Soun,” Ryoga explained, trying to give a comforting smile.

With how fragile Ranma seemed right now, there wasn’t a chance he was going to let them go back to the dojo alone. He felt assured when Ranma gave a weak smile.

-b-

The classes had gone well enough, despite Ranma seeming to squirm a little every time Ryoga looked at them. Afterwards, they’d taken Tenma and Sera back to Ryoga’s place when Ranma had hurried off to change. This left Ryoga with both children in the living room, Sera giving him her well honed stink eye.

“Dad’s acting weird around you,” the young girl said. “What did I tell you about getting between mom and dad?”

“I didn’t do anything?” Ryoga replied defensively. “I’m just trying to be a supportive friend, and your dad is going through a lot.”

That was when Ranma reappeared, in female form and dressed in a casual, but distinctly feminine, way. Sera’s eyes narrowed at Ryoga, and he was left with no good explanation. Tenma seemed to also pick up on the implication Sera was seeing, though his response was a smile.

“Alright troopers, what did you guys want to do? Board games? Movies? Go to the park?” Ranma asked, somehow managing to give off furious ‘dad’ vibes, despite their currently female form.

“Daddy, are you going to marry Ryoga-san now?” Tenma asked, looking back and forth between the two adults with curiosity in his young eyes.

“M-marry? I,” Ranma stammered.

“That’s... we’re both... uh,” Ryoga added, displaying his vocabulary.

Ryoga was left out of ideas and blushing furiously, looking to Ranma for help. Unfortunately the redhead looked just as unprepared as he was, and was staring back his way. Ryoga didn’t know what to make of that stare, so sure it would be easier for Ranma to explain things than for him to do it... and also feeling like it was Ranma’s place, as these were their kids asking about their state. Yet Ranma seemed to want Ryoga to explain it. Ryoga just gave a panicked shrug.

“Uh, well, if you two wanted to do family activities, it’s easier this way?” Ranma finally offered.

“I thought we were going to stay indoors?” Sera asked, sounding unconvinced.

“Just seemed best to be prepared?” Ranma said.

“I want to watch a movie now,” Tenma announced, thankfully changing the subject.

  
Ryoga kept getting _looks_ from Sera, but escaped any awkward direct questioning he didn’t know how to explain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long.


End file.
